Sadness is...not going to Burning Man


And so it is, with great sadness that I realized some time ago that I will not make it to Black Rock Desert this year for Burning Man. Needless to say, I am extremely depressed, and have been for about a month, when the friend that was saving me a ticket, broke up with his girlfriend of eight years and informed me that the extra ticket apparently got lost in the break up. I have had a particularly hard summer financially and was already contemplating the very real possibility that I wouldn't make it this year, followed shortly thereafter by the announcement that, for the first time in Burning Man's 25 year history, tickets had sold out, and that the amount of people allowed had reached capacity.



The Man, 2010


I went last year for the first time. I needed to go, if only for my sanity, to renew my faith in the human race, and to behold my hippie-dom that has always resided deep within me; the nomad, the adventure-seeking dancer that needed something other than this default world could provide after 40 years on the planet.

So I sit, riddled with anxiety and somewhat a little envy as I check my Facebook status and see my year-old community of friends in San Francisco that are preparing for the Playa, and are leaving as we speak. This was going to be my Sophomore year, but this just means I need to prepare early and be doubly ready to go in 2012.

The energy of the Playa, the name for the ancient lake bed upon which this event takes place, is amazing and magical. I have been dreaming about being there as the event gets closer. Dreaming of dusty adventures, beautiful art, head throbbing drum beats from amazing DJ's, creativity and the kindness that can be found in the human spirit.

This year I will be there in spirit. Next year, I will be there.

Blissed Out






  







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    1. Unfortunately I didn't Jamie. I moved to Lisbon instead. I am writing about my adventures here and will send you the link if you wanna check it out!

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